


I'll Die For You

by dabistears



Series: When The Stars Align [6]
Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Artificial Gehenna Gate, Demonic Possession, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Demon Kings Are Little Shits, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25055587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabistears/pseuds/dabistears
Summary: “He who fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster... and if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”
Relationships: Moriyama Shiemi/Okumura Rin, Okumura Yukio/Shima Renzou
Series: When The Stars Align [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1432006
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	I'll Die For You

**Author's Note:**

> It's going down!!! Sorry for the slow updates, life isn't being very kind atm. For any updates follow my twitter @dabistears

Samael isn’t one to be fond of specific humans, or at least he likes to think his demonic mind works that way. You see, humans are fun playthings, tiny walking boxes full of predictable surprises. He enjoys observing them, watching them make decisions every single day, from what clothes they wear in the morning to, say, jumping in front of moving vehicles to save someone else’s life. All these thoughts – these convictions – they’re things he as a Demon King never even considered a possibility, yet these beings live off of that.

On rare occasions, though, he’s presented with exceptional human beings. Those who defy the prime idea of what these convictions should be, according to his thousands of years in observation.

There is one human in particular who, dare he say, he still remembers with certain fondness. Friedrich Nietzsche was just a kid when he crossed paths with the King of Time, and even without a mashou, he could tell the extravagant man in front of him was beyond human. Samael was doing a leisure trip through Germany, as he always does when his Assiah responsibilities don’t call for his presence. He’d found the kid walking down the road, his eyes lost somewhere in the extensive pastures that covered the small town.

“May I ask, what are you looking at?” Samael had asked, always curious, always hunting for the next exposition of humanity.

The boy only blinked at him, something like indifferent recognition in his otherwise dull eyes.

“Nothing,” the boy simply said, before politely stepping around Samael and continuing his trail.

Curiosity killed the cat, or in this case, the boy’s father and younger brother. The contrast between both deaths – one slow and painful, the other fast and unexpected – turned the gears on young Nietzsche’s head for the better.

 _‘Astounding’_ , Samael thought years later when he met the young man once again. This time, he held a book in hand, whilst he talked to another young man, presumably a colleague of his. The topics of their conversation sparked something beyond curiosity in the Demon King’s mind.

Samael made sure to consume every single piece of literature the man produced, always pleasantly surprised by the man’s musings, finding himself agreeing with most of his views – something that had never truly happened before. Not even his own brothers and sisters, the other Demon Kings and Queens of Gehenna, has such a similar thought process to his.

Even so, Samael never made proper contact with the man. It would’ve been amazing to get a hold of such a soul for himself, yet he could never bring himself to propose an offer. Mostly because he knew the man would refuse, but also because, well, he didn’t particularly feel the need to corrupt it. His mind was already more than what Samael could’ve ever craved for, and even though knowing that his human existence would diminish eventually, he couldn’t dare touch whatever it is the man had working for himself.

He held back, and Nietzsche died all too soon for his own liking. He read and reread the man’s work over and over, committing every word, every sentiment to his unlimited memory.

Samael never quite realized he had a need to be understood, by his siblings, by other Demons, by anyone for that matter, until then. And so, his search for humanity took a new course.

When Satan, his father, incarnated for the first time, he knew this was it. The moment he’d been looking for to put Nietzsche’s teachings to practice. The best part was, he didn’t need to interfere much. Satan produced his own demise, Lucifer had been working on his own madness for centuries, and Shiro Fujimoto and Yuri Egyn were nothing more than a blessing. The planets aligned just perfectly, making Samael doubt for a second if by some chance Nietzsche was nothing more than a simple prophet with a nice way of words.

The twins’ birth was the last missing piece of the puzzle. Samael already had prepared the best seat to the show for himself, and now he just sat there and waited.

The chess board now sat in front of him, all his pawns perfectly aligned, playing their part.

Now, looking down at the scene before him in the Russian tundra, his fingers tingle with the need to cradle the queen in a gentle hold. The famous phrase he adores crosses his mind, and an eager smile appears on his slow-aging human face.

_“He who fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster...”_

A gentle smile crosses the green-eyed face, finally uncovering his soft brown hair from the dark hood and tossing the piece of fabric aside. A single second of silence overwhelmed with the beating of three dozen hearts and heavy breathing. For those standing there, time seemed to slow down allowing them to see each individual snowflake dance in the tense air and puffs of white smoke before finally connecting to a surface.

Samael, though, will not confirm nor deny any intervention with the pass of time itself. A policy he established shortly after co-founding the Knights of the True Cross.

“Sorry, Yukio can’t come to the phone right now,” the man says. The coldness in that voice brings goose bumps to Samael’s human skin, a pleasant chill running down his spine. He sits at the edge of his pink couch conveniently located in a pocket dimension where not even his Father can see. Yes, he’s been saving the first-row seat for a very, very long time and it feels good to finally get to use it.

“W- where’s my brother?!”

Samael almost squeals with joy.

The raw emotion captured in his little brother’s voice goes beyond his wildest expectations. Even better, he feels the deep rumble of his demonic side simmering at the surface, ready to breath at any moment. He’s still as unstable as he can be, specially since his brother, the one person he loves more than anyone, is-

“Not here,” Lucifer answers.

Ah, what a wicked use of honesty right there.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” They’re in the middle of the Russian tundra, but snow and ice melt around them uncaringly of the sub-zero temperatures. It’s breaching.

Samael holds his breath. Lucifer’s inhuman smirk returns. “’No matter what you say, no matter what you do, the answer will always be ‘no’. You said that only a couple minutes ago.”

Rin shakes with rage, both his human and demonic sides boiling with uncontrollable emotion, bursting through the flames that erupt from his body like sharp daggers pointing at the sky above and Samael almost recoils with something he doesn’t even think comes close to fear, but familiar in the sense that it’s so Satan-y he wants to wail and scream in pure joy.

_“He who fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster...”_

Lucifer takes a confident step forward, holding Rin’s gaze. “Are you sure that is still your answer?”

“I asked,” Rin’s voice is barely above a whisper now, quiet yet thick with things Samael can’t understand, has never been able to, but is eager to see just how unpredictable the situation can actually be. “Where. The. Hell. Is. My. Brother.”

The young teen’s eyes shift to Satan’s. The weight they hold doesn’t seem to affect his demonic Father, though, who just stares back with an insultingly bored expression. “I know he’s not in there.”

Lucifer’s manic grin grows even more unsettling. “Well, aren’t you a clever boy? Your demonic side is finally shining through. Too bad, it’s too late for you to enjoy it, for now. Do not fret, for I will make sure you’ll get time to enjoy your gifts once The New World is here. I am your older brother after all. Even if you won’t stand by my side, I am willing to be generous with you.”

Rin’s eyes remain glued to Satan’s.

More than 100 meters away, Shura curses.

“That dimwit is losing it already!” She screams, knowing that the Demons already know of their location.

“Rin…” Shiemi whispers, holding her hands close to her chest. She closes her eyes, feeling powerless. Her abilities as a priestess of Shemihaza are limited, yet she’s still strong enough against Demon Kings. If her grandmother was able to fight off Satan’s possession, then she can do it too. Yet, she understands now why Lucifer would choose such a cold place to use as a battlefield. It is so much more difficult to summon life in such extreme weather…

“Shura,” Lightning says, his eyes glued to the wall of flames barely visible in the horizon. “Don’t make a move, not yet.”

Shura fiddles with her sword. “I know.”

Multiple clicks graze the air. Riding on top of Kuro Izumo, Bon and Konekomaru prepare the arsenal of guns they’d acquired from the arc knights.

Samael leans back on his seat, queen sitting on her throne on the chess board, waiting.

500 meters away, a solitary Illuminati ship awaits.

Satan smiles. “You don’t have a choice anymore, son.”

_“He who fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster... and if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”_


End file.
